Whose Lives Matter?

When refugees die on Europe’s borders, the West wants to act, but when Assad rains barrel
bombs on Homs, no one cares.

BY STEPHEN M. WALT NOVEMBER 2, 2015

The world has no shortage of victims of terrible tragedies these days. Death tolls are rising in places from Syria

to Sudan and some 60 million people have been displaced from their homes worldwide. But which of these

people will get widespread support and sympathy and which will be ignored or neglected? A photograph of a

single drowned Syrian child riveted the world’s attention on the humanitarian crisis unfolding there, and the

beheading of two American journalists by the Islamic State forced a reluctant president to pay more attention

to the problem than he initially intended. Yet few people in the United States spend much time thinking about

hundreds of thousands of Iraqis who lost their lives as a consequence of the U.S. invasion, just as most of the

world ignored the frightful human consequences of the long Congo War(s). Human suffering may still be a

depressingly constant feature of our politics, but sometimes these tragedies bring forth an outpouring of

sympathy, money, and armed intervention; at other times the world turns its back.

Why do some groups trigger our sympathy and win outside help while other victims suffer in (relative)

obscurity? Here’s my initial cut at an answer: a nine-point framework that describes what I’ve called the “social

construction of victimhood.”

Trending Articles
Rex Tillerson Calls On U.N. Members To Tighten Vise On…
China, Russia, and other powers voice fear that U.S. threat of military action may lead to miscalculation and
war.
 Powered By

1. How many are suffering or dying? Other things being equal, the greater the number of people at risk, the more

likely their victimhood is to be recognized and the greater the corresponding response is likely to be. A purely

utilitarian calculus tells us outsiders should be more responsive when more people are suffering and dying,

because an effective response could produce a greater positive effect. But other things are rarely equal, and the

number of people suffering doesn’t seem to determine the magnitude of response in any clear or linear fashion.

Millions died in the Congo Wars and most of the world didn’t even know about them; whereas the (possibly

mistaken) fear of a much smaller massacre in Benghazi helped convince the United States and others to

intervene and topple Libya’s former dictator Muammar al-Qaddafi. Numbers do matter, but they don’t tell the

whole story.

2. Who is suffering or dying? As John Tirman has shown in his important book The Deaths of Others, Americans

are far more sensitive to the casualties suffered by our fellow citizens than we are to the deaths we inflict on

others. And the United States is hardly unique: States normally pursue their own self-interest and that means

they care far more about protecting their own citizens than they care about helping foreign populations. This

tendency isn’t all that surprising; even liberal democracies tend to wage war with little regard for the harm they

inflict on the enemy population, civilians included.

A corollary is that countries are more likely to respond when the victims are regarded as friendly or when we

see them as similar to ourselves. As critics noted at the time, the United States and EU were a lot more

concerned about the plight of (white) Bosnians in the former Yugoslavia than they were about the plight of

(black) Africans in Rwanda or the Congo. And we are less likely to respond when allies are causing the problem:

the United States is quick to condemn Russia for its indiscriminate bombing in Syria but is actively aiding the

Saudi air campaign in Yemen and pays little attention to the civilians pummeled by Israeli airpower in Gaza.

But “cultural similarity” or political alignment isn’t the whole story either. After all, the primary beneficiaries of
But “cultural similarity” or political alignment isn’t the whole story either. After all, the primary beneficiaries of

Western intervention in the Balkan Wars were the Bosnian Muslims, which is not what the “clash of

civilizations” paradigm would have predicted. Powerful states might be somewhat more inclined to help allies

rather than adversaries, but the collective response to large-scale suffering doesn’t conform to strict ideological

or cultural lines.

3. How are people dying? Political leaders also seem to be sensitive to the way that people are dying, not just the

numbers or their identities, but their reactions aren’t always logical or easy to explain. For example, it is not

obvious that dying from a chemical weapon is worse than being killed by an artillery shell or barrel bomb, but

governments seem to treat the former as especially heinous and more likely to provoke a response. Similarly,

the callousness and brutality of video-taped beheadings sparks a more visceral reaction than more mundane

ways of killing even if shooting or bombing someone is just as deadly, equally painful, and responsible for a

larger number of victims.

Not surprisingly, politicians and publics are also more responsive when a humanitarian catastrophe is swift,

sudden, and violent, and we pay less attention when victims are dying slowly and quietly. For this reason,

Syrian President Bashar al-Assad’s barrel bombs attract more attention and concern than the possibility that

some Syrians may starve or die from exposure and disease. Human brains are hard-wired to respond to vivid

events, which makes it easier for us to ignore events or processes that lack the dramatic impact that makes for a

riveting CNN segment.

4. Are the deaths deliberate or accidental? Interestingly, we tend to see the victims of accidents — such as a

bombing raid or drone strike that goes awry — as especially tragic, because their deaths seem so pointless. But

we are also less likely to respond to accidental or inadvertent suffering than we are to deliberate punitive

campaigns, because more lives are at risk when combatants are targeting civilians than when civilian deaths

are an unintended by-product. If Assad’s forces in Syria were carefully distinguishing between civilians and

combatants and doing their best to avoid the former, we would be less concerned if some civilians were

nonetheless killed by accident. It is the indiscriminate and deliberate nature of the Syrian government’s actions

that has rightly turned so many against it.

This distinction makes no difference to the victims (unintended or otherwise), but it does seem to affect the
likelihood that others will intervene. Needless to say, this is why states that are committing war crimes

routinely deny that this is what they are doing, and automatically attribute any and all civilian deaths to

mistakes, or to the “fog of war.”

5. Is there a simple solution to the problem? People often say all life is sacred, but it is easier to pay attention to

victims when it is also obvious how to help them. If helping others is too hard, too risky, or likely to cost too

much, it is more tempting to look away. Politicians are understandably loath to highlight problems for which

they have no answers, so they will do their best to ignore the victims’ plight lest they look ineffectual.

For this reason, we tend to see more vigorous and energetic responses after a natural disasters, because sending

relief aid is less likely to drag responders into a complex, unwinnable quagmire. But as the case of Syria

reminds us, states are warier about getting involved in someone else’s civil war because helping succor the

victims is likely to be a lot harder. The bottom line: Victims of Mother Nature are more likely to get help than

people victimized by their fellow humans.

6. Are the victims (partly) responsible? When conflicts unfold, our sympathies naturally gravitate toward those

who bear no blame for their suffering, and who are, as the phrase puts it, “innocent victims.” This is one reason

why we react more powerfully to civilian deaths, and especially to the deaths of children. Soldiers suffer in war

as well — sometimes grievously — but their plight does not trigger the same degree of sympathy. A struggle

between two equally matched factions, where neither deserves the moral high ground, looks different to us

than a situation where a powerful majority is suppressing a much weaker minority, and all the more so if the

minority has done little to provoke it.

And here’s the rub: Groups trying to attract outside support know how to play this card. They will go to great

lengths to portray their own side as virtuous and to accuse their opponents of all manners of atrocities. The
lengths to portray their own side as virtuous and to accuse their opponents of all manners of atrocities. The

purpose, of course, is to portray themselves as innocent victims and convince the outside world that their

enemies are brutal, inhuman monsters. Groups that know how to spin effectively are more likely to win support

than groups that lack these skills. This is not to say that there is not genuine suffering going on, but it reminds

us that claims of victimhood need to be judged with a skeptical eye and confirmed by independent sources.

And the same goes for the rationalizations offered by powerful oppressors, who of course will try to paint their

victims as somehow deserving of what they are getting. Unfortunately, assessing who is (mostly) telling the

truth here is not easy, even in the information-saturated environment of today.

7. Was it “worth it?” Humanity may have made some progress over the centuries, but many countries are still

willing to countenance a lot of suffering if they think it will advance some larger purpose. As former U.S.

Secretary of State Madeleine Albright famously responded when asked about the thousands of Iraqis who may

have died as a result of the U.S.-led sanctions program, “we think the price is worth it.” The numbers may have

been exaggerated and Albright clearly regretted her statement, but the logic is clear and hardly unique to her or

to the United States. Ambitious countries are often willing to sacrifice the lives of others in order to advance

broader objectives, although they rarely ‘fess up to it as openly.

8. Are the victims well-connected and media-savvy? Victims are more likely to win attention and support if they

know how to communicate their experience, if they have ready access to global media institutions, and if they

know how to play the media game. Others won’t respond if they don’t know what is happening, or if they don’t

get a clear sense of who is in the right and who is in the wrong. Accordingly, the social construction of

victimhood depends in part on how well those who are suffering are able to tell their story to the world. It helps

if the story they are telling is (mostly) true, but groups seeking outside support have obvious incentives to spin

a self-serving story and to describe their situation in ways that are likely to resonate with powerful actors who

might be persuaded to lend a hand. For this reason, outside powers are probably wise to treat the victims’

testimony with some skepticism, but without letting that skepticism turn into cynicism. All too often, those

claiming to be victims are just that.

9. Timing matters, too. It may not make logical or moral sense, but our response to victims is also affected by

what is happening in other parts of the world, and the timing of the latest crisis. If the global agenda isn’t very
what is happening in other parts of the world, and the timing of the latest crisis. If the global agenda isn’t very

crowded, if powerful states are free to take swift action, and if previous efforts to send help actually worked,

then victims of tragedy are more likely to receive assistance. But “donor fatigue” can set in quickly if other

states and international institutions are already bedeviled by other problems, and if previous efforts to

intervene went poorly. To cite an obvious example, President Barack Obama’s reluctance to jump into the

Syrian quagmire was undoubtedly strengthened by the outcome of the earlier intervention in Libya, not to

mention the long and costly U.S. experience in Iraq and Afghanistan.

***
The implication of all of the above, I’m afraid, is that the international community’s response to victims will

remain haphazard and inconsistent. For all our bold rhetoric about the “responsibility to protect,” the collective

response to even large-scale tragedies will usually reflect a complex set of calculations rather than a simple

urge to help those in trouble. If that bothers you — and it should — perhaps the obvious lesson is to do more to

head off civil conflicts before they start.

Photo credit: Stringer/AFP/Getty Images

Like this article? Read an unlimited amount of articles, plus access to our entire 46 year printed archive, the FP

App, and the FP Insights Tool when you subscribe to FP Premium for 20% off!

YOU MAY LIKE SPONSORED LINKS BY TABOOLA

IF YOU OWN A COMPUTER YOU MUST TRY THIS GAME!

VIKINGS: FREE ONLINE GAME

HOW THIS APP TEACHES YOU A LANGUAGE IN 3 WEEKS!

BABBEL

AMAZING LAST MINUTE DEALS ON FLIGHTS!

SAVE70

THIS IS THE MOST ADDICTING GAME OF THE YEAR

PIRATES: FREE ONLINE GAME
MORE FROM FOREIGN POLICY BY TABOOLA

THIS MAP SHOWS CHINA’S HILARIOUS STEREOTYPES OF EUROPE

THE REAL SHAME IN PAKISTAN

THE OUSTER OF MATTIS: SOME FOLLOW-UP DETAILS AND A WHITE HOUSE RESPONSE

MAPPED: CHINESE STEREOTYPES OF THE AMERICAS

THE STARTLING PLIGHT OF CHINA’S LEFTOVER LADIES

5 THINGS THE PENTAGON ISN’T TELLING US ABOUT THE CHINESE MILITARY